Remedy
by ForsakenKalika
Summary: Draco Malfoy proposes. Again. Smutty Dramione oneshot with a hint of tropishness. EWE and M for a reason (content and language... and content). Inspired incidentally by Abandoned Pool's song, "The Remedy."


Without another thought, he pushed her backward. Her shoulders hit the wooden door jamb with a dulled thump but before her head could follow, his hand was there, cupping her at the base of her skull and holding her still while his lips explored hers. A startled moan escaped her only to turn into a purr of satisfaction when she met his tongue with hers.

In the back of her mind, Hermione dimly recalled the words of one if her mother's old trashy romances and pondered whether or not their tongues were battling for dominance. When his slicked against hers once in a deeply erotic stroke, the instinctive way her own muscle twisted and slid back told her no, there was no battle here. Rather, the beginning of a dance older than recorded history.

Malfoy let out a deep groan in response, stepping in impossibly closer, while he hoisted her legs up and around his waist. She rested a bicep on one of his shoulders, weaving her hand into the hair at the back of his head while her other hand roamed his chest through his dress shirt. Her nail caught his nipple and Malfoy's hips twitched into hers, his hardness meeting her dampened knickers. He pulled back, pressing their foreheads together.

His breath was still minted from evening ablutions as he panted against her lips, the cool tingles on her own kiss-puffed pair only serving to heighten her heated state. She met his eyes, his expression somewhere between want and a desperate plea. This time, her nails raked down his chest with purpose, catching him again while she coyly met his gaze.

"I swear, Granger, if you-" he broke off with a strangled gurgle while her hips canted and rolled against the turgid length between her legs. With another swivel, his face was buried against her neck, mouth all teeth and tongue nipping and suckling the graceful arch.

"What do you want. Malfoy?" she whispered into his ear, not even bothering to contain the slightly breathy noises she released as their combined motions stimulated her swollen clit beneath the now-sodden fabric. His hands were at her waist holding her still against him when he looked her in the eye seriously, his previous ardor barely restrained while he searched her gaze.

"You." Malfoy said nothing else, just watched her whole she fruitlessly squirmed against him for friction, one hand clutched around the door frame. Still he held her, waiting. Finally, she allowed the magic she had been holding back since that first day of their return to school to spring forth, swirling and melting with his, giving him his answer. Hermione let out a whine when he plucked one of her nipples and kissed the spot below her ear.

"You're mine, Hermione. Not Weasley's, not Zabini's. Mine." She couldn't deny the way their unseen bonds tugged at her, making the sensations more intense. He was absolutely right, and he was just as much hers. Her repeated affirmations emboldened him to lower his free hand to her core, hissing at the ruination of her knickers. "Gods," he cursed, running a clever digit to and fro over her clothed lips. With no warning, he shoved the material to the side and stroked through the trimmed damp curls at her apex, his own arousal bobbing in excitement and approval. A finger entered her, curling up and slightly in before sliding back out, only to repeat while he muttered filthy endearments to her. Before she realized it, she was being lowered to the floor and lain back while he lapped at her. This time two of his long fingers joined the dance while his self-admitted silver tongue tasted her lips and clit like they were the finest delicacy. In moments, he was feasting upon her with obscene noises of enjoyment while she was dampening his fingers and face.

"I'm s-sorry. I-" She broke off her embarrassed apology, never having had _that_ intense of an orgasm, when he dived back in and continued his oral assault. Again, she was keening, and again, he reacted like a man starved.

"Never say you're sorry for that. I intend to make you do it more." He replied before kissing her pearl once. Now that some of their ardour had cooled, he took the time to remove her properly soaked panties, relishing in the feel of her thighs as he rolled the fabric down them. She assisted in the removal of his shirt then, and he hers, their kisses less frantic than they had been, but just as emotional.

When their centres aligned, he kept eye contact with her, their bodies moving into place with a shared gasp. "Fucking perfect," he rasped against Hermione's lips, feeling the excited puffs of air she breathed with the pace of his thrusts. When she once again rolled her hips, his eyes did the same in his head. More blood rushed to fill his cock leaving him lightheaded and Draco dropped his forehead to her collarbone. Swiftly, he rolled to his back, keeping her legs to either side of his hips, and pistoned into her from below.

"F-fu-u-ck. Fuck!" She threw her head back, eyes clenched, and grasped at her breasts where they bounced above him. Her deft, manicured fingers twirled around her nipples, the sight making his cock swell. Another couple of thrusts had her walls fluttering.

"You gonna come for me?" Draco asked, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and folding her down to meet her gaze, hair gently clasped in his fist. "You gonna come all over my cock, Hermione?" She would, he knew. He could see the look in her eye signalling her culmination - hot, needy, begging - and pushed just a little more to send her over with him. She nodded, meeting his lusty stare with a feral one of her own. "You're gonna fucking _soak_ me, aren't you, Princess?" A few well placed thrusts and she was doing just that while he spent himself, pressing kisses to her jaw between groans of satiation.

Her magic settled, knit with his, as they lay still joined on the doorway floor, heartbeats slowly calming. "So we're doing this?" She whispered against his collarbone. It didn't matter that they had been paired by that stupid law, somewhere she had gone and fallen for the ferret. If the events of that evening were any indication, he had done for her as well. She gasped against him as his magic flared protectively around hers.

"Hermione Jean Granger, will you _please_ marry me?" He smiled widely at the swell of pure affection through their shared bond.

She raised herself up slightly to look him in the eye, smiling softly at the man below her. "Yes."

"Finally."


End file.
